Waves Poem by Patti Masterman

Cool the water splashes, playing from curve to line,
Jet blue, like a fountain, flows on the heels of time

Waves rise full hull to heaven, slowing the climb at last,
Almost touching clouds, as ever they swell so fast

Sparkling with crystal presence, tides of a murmuring call,
Then crashing down with violence, as they begin the fall

Driftwood caresses ankles, there on the shores of sand,
Left seashells free for taking, in the smooth hands of man.